Page 110 of The Viscount and the Vixen
“Where did she live?”
Through clenched teeth, he ground out the address. “But as I said you won’t find her there.”
“I’m well aware. Keep this conversation and your past relationship with her to yourself, or I shall see you ruined. Ashebury and Greyling will help me see to it.”
As though he wished to tangle with the Hellions. One was bad enough. All three would ensure he was never again welcomed in polite Society. “The threat is unnecessary. Believe it or not, I want her to be happy. But if you hurt her—”
He had no chance to complete his threat, as Locksley was already gone. It was an odd moment to realize that he had never envied a man more.
She’d hated parting with the pearls, but she didn’t have any other choice. Unfortunately they didn’t bring in as much money as she’d hoped, but it had been enough that she had felt confident going to her solicitor, that she could pay his fee. As it turned out, he didn’t charge her for his advice, as there was nothing he could do for her.
“I can’t divorce him.” Portia paced in front of the fireplace in her temporary bedchamber.
“I thought infidelity was a justifiable reason for getting a divorce,” Sophie said.
“Yes, but I can’t divorcehimbecauseIcommitted adultery. Onlyhecan divorce me for my transgressions.”
“You can divorce him if he commits adultery, so say he did.”
Shaking her head, she stopped pacing. “No. I’ll not have some woman he might wish to marry questioning his faithfulness. He is loyal. Besides, it’s not enough for him to be an adulterer. He must desert me for two years. Yet I don’t have to desert him. There are different laws applied to men than to women, which makes it near impossible for a woman to get out of an unwelcomed marriage. In truth it makes everything hard for a woman.” Not that hers had been unwelcomed. It had been wonderful and exquisite.
“Well, the law always has, hasn’t it? Made it difficult for women.”
“Sophie, I don’t know how to make this right.” She dropped into the chair. “I could write a letter to theTimes, explaining I was unfaithful. Once published it would leave him with no choice except to divorce me. Although he would hate me all the more.”
“What does it matter how much he hates you?”
She nodded, fighting back the desolation and tears. “You’re right. What matters is that Beaumont’s child not become Locksley’s heir.”
“And when you are free of Locksley?”
Her throat and chest tightened. She couldn’t have swallowed if she needed to. “I’m going to find a family—a proper family who will love and care for this babe as though he were their own. I should never have been so selfish as to want to keep him.”
“Or her.”
She laughed. “Or her.” Although of late, it seemed she could envision herself with a son, one with coal-black hair and green eyes.
“But how will you support yourself?”
“Go into service, I suppose.” Without an illegitimate child to mark her as a fallen woman, it would be easier to find employment. But how she would miss having someone to love her unconditionally.
A sharp rap had her turning toward the door as the maid opened it and strolled in. “A gentleman caller,” she said, handing Sophie a card.
Her friend read it, her eyebrows lifted. “Well, I daresay, I don’t think he’s here for me.” She extended the card.
Portia took it, her eyes glancing over what she’d feared she might see. Her heart galloped as though it needed to leave the room, the residence, London. “What the devil is he doing here?”
“He’s come to fetch you back,” a deep familiar voice said from the doorway.
She shot up out of the chair, took two steps back, and grabbed the fireplace mantel to steady herself. He looked marvelous. Every single hair in place, his face freshly shaven, his clothes immaculate. So different from the last time she’d seen him wander into a bedchamber, the last time she’d gazed on him sprawled over a bed.
Gracefully, Sophie rose to her feet and began ushering out the maid.
“Where are you going?” Portia demanded.
“To leave you two to it.”
As she neared Locksley, he said, “You must be MissSophie.”
